Moments In Time
by Jorja-Fan23
Summary: GSR memories, songs, flashbacks, and fluff. NEW CHAPTER 13! COMPLETE!
1. Default Chapter

Title:  Moments in Time 

Author:  annefishermn@yahoo.com

Spoilers:  All of season one and two, plus Play with Fire from season three

Feedback:  Please R&R!!

Disclaimer:  I don't own the characters, I'm not making any money from this, please don't sue…

Part One:  A drive through the desert 

It was very late, or very early, depending on your perspective.  Grissom was driving down I-15, heading back into Vegas from a conference in Utah.  He glanced down at the digital clock glowing green in the dark of the inside of the Tahoe, 4:52am.  Normally he would be completely awake at this time, being used to working the night shift for so many years.  However, being awake during the day for the four days at the entomology conference had thrown off his internal clock.  Getting back in the night shift grove would take a few days.  He just had to stay awake for one more hour and he would be in Vegas and he could sleep for a few hours before he had to go back into the lab.

He wondered how the lab was getting on without him.  He had left Catherine in charge.  She only called once, to let him know that they wrapped up the case that he had been working on when he left.  Other than that they must not have had any major catastrophes, or he would have been called.

He yawned and reached down to turn on the radio.  Maybe some music would wake him up.

"She's sun and rain, she's fire and ice, a little crazy but it's nice.  And when she gets mad you best leave her alone.  'Cause she'll rage just like a river, then she'll beg you to forgive her.  She's every woman that I've ever known."

Grissom smiled.  That song sounds a lot like Sara.  That woman was a walking contradiction.  One day she is all business, processing a crime scene and interpreting evidence and solving scientific mysteries.  The next day she is just about compromising an investigation by picking a fight with a suspect that killed his wife after years of battering.  

"She's so New York and then L.A., and every town along the way.  She's every place that I've never been.  She's making love on rainy nights.  She's a stroll through Christmas lights, and she's everything I want to do again."

One moment she is complaining about not being good with kids and she is mad about being sent away from a scene to watch a little girl, the next moment she is holding that same girl's hand and telling her everything is going to be ok.  She is hard as a rock with criminals, and soft and caring when dealing with victims.  She was sensitive enough to work to find the killer of the gorilla, and she became a vegetarian after she sat up all night with him documenting bug development on a decomposing pig.  She'll put herself in harms way by being a decoy for an F.B.I. operation to catch a serial killer, but she won't go near a science experiment that involves meat or animals.  She can lock herself in a small room and dig through the clothes of a decomp, but the sight of a bucket of spit or a body with bugs all over it will make her want to throw up.

"No it needs no explanation, 'cause it all makes perfect sense.  When it comes down to temptation she's on both sides of the fence.  She's anything but typical; she's so unpredictable.  Oh, but even at her worst she ain't that bad.  She's as real as real can be, and she's every fantasy.  Lord she's every lover that I've ever had, and she's every lover that I've never had."

Grissom sighed and changed the station.  Daydreaming about Sara was not a good way to keep him awake and focused on the road.  Thinking about her was a good way to get him distracted enough to run off the road.  Not a good idea.  He was prone to getting lost in his thoughts often enough, he didn't need musical help.  He found a station playing some 70s song.  That will work.


	2. Chapter 2

Part Two:  Memories 

Despite his attempt to change the channel to make himself not daydream about certain coworkers, his thoughts again began to wander to Sara.  He yawned and shook himself.  He really needed to stay focused.  Life would be so much easier if everything were like science.  There at least you knew there was a right answer if you looked long enough.  There were rules in science; there were predictable patterns.  With people, things could go topsy turvey without warning.  Sometimes people were not as predictable as he wished they were.  Human behavior is so bizarre sometimes.  One day she is asking him if he wants to sleep with her, another day she is asking him to diner.  Ok, so on some things she is consistent.  But why did she want to take them beyond friendly coworkers?  Why did she want to go into the unpredictability of who knows where from the safety of their harmless flirting and banter?

Grissom could just see the lights of Vegas reflecting in the sky on the horizon.  He should be home soon.  He was still daydreaming about Sara and their complicated relationship when the coyote bounded into the road.  He never even saw it.  The impact caused the vehicle to skid sideways, and roll into the ditch.  Two complete flips, and it came to rest upside down.  And the radio sang on…

"Hold on.  The night is coming and the starling flew for days.  I'd stay home at night all the time.  I'd go anywhere, anywhere.  Ask me and I'm there because I care.  Sara, you're the poet in my heart, never change, never stop.  And now it's gone, it doesn't matter what for…"

Somewhere mid way through the first flip Grissom was knocked unconscious, but his mind was busy.  The first thing he saw was himself at age three.  He was watching ants crawl on the sidewalk.  He had been interested in bugs as long as he could remember.  The picture changed.  Now he saw him and his mother signing to each other, he was ten.  Next was a moment of high school, when he was in his favorite class, science.  This was followed by a barrage of seminars and cases that he had worked on.  A thousand photo albums of snapshots in time, crime after crime, some solved, some still open.  Then came Sara.  He saw her in a pink shirt, sunglasses on, arms crossed across her chest.  "Norman pushed, Norman jumped, Norman fell."  He saw her digging frantically in the dirt trying to find the woman buried somewhere beneath, her hair blown in swirls by the breeze created by the swirling helicopter blades.  He saw her leaning on the doorframe of an airplane bathroom, an embarrassed smile on her lips.  "Ah, the mile high club."  Now she was standing in the door of his office, almost in tears.  "What if you hear the victim's screams?  At home, at the store…"  Then she was wearing protective goggles, a little too big for her face.  Hovering with him behind protective glass as they blew up test bombs.  She was sitting on the side of a hospital bed, with a necklace of St. Katherine in her hand.  She was in front of a computer screen, looking up information on gorilla trafficking.  She was in a grocery store, trying to lure a killer.  She was staying up for three days searching databases for missing persons.  She was sitting beside him at an ice rink, wearing a black stocking cap.  She was standing under a bridge, looking off into the sky.  She was eating breakfast with him and the rest of the team, smiling and laughing.  She had a beautiful smile.  She is in the lab, concentrating so hard on a piece of evidence that she tunes out the rest of the world.  She is in the garage in a jumpsuit, taking apart a car piece by piece.  

~She's sun and rain; she's fire and ice.  A little crazy but it's nice.  And when she gets mad you best leave her alone.  'Cause she'll rage just like a river, then she'll beg you to forgive her.  She's every woman that I've ever known. She's so New York and then L.A., and every town along the way.  She's every place that I've never been.  She's making love on rainy nights.  She's a stroll through Christmas lights, and she's everything I want to do again. No it needs no explanation, 'cause it all makes perfect sense.  When it comes down to temptation she's on both sides of the fence.  She's anything but typical; she's so unpredictable.  Oh, but even at her worst she ain't that bad.  She's as real as real can be, and she's every fantasy.  Lord she's every lover that I've ever had, and she's every lover that I've never had.~  And with that, his mind went blank.


	3. Chapter 3

Part Three:  The Emergency Room 

Sara was in her car on her way home from work when the call came across the scanner.  Single car rollover accident in the desert just outside Vegas.  She didn't really think much of it until a second police officer came on the scanner.

"Dispatch, this is officer Stevens, 892.  I recognize the driver.  It's Gil Grissom, he works for the crime lab, a CSI."  Sara felt her blood freeze solid in her veins.  She felt like she was frozen in time, unable to move or breathe.  A giant weight had settled on her chest, and time seemed to stop, the whole world went quiet and faded into the background.  The honking of a car horn was what pulled her back to reality.  The light was green.  She drove through the intersection and pulled into the first parking lot that she came to and turned around.  Forget work, it was her day off anyway.  She was going to the hospital.

Since the accident was a ways out of town, and she was right by the hospital when she heard the call, she beat the ambulance there.  She wished that she hadn't.  After an agonizing fifteen minute wait, she saw the ambulance pull up, and the paramedics take the stretcher out of the back and jog into the emergency room.  He had on a neck brace and backboard, which were holding him still so as to not make his injuries worse than they already were.  He was absolutely covered in blood.  His hair was matted to the side of his head, an apparent head trauma the cause of that pile of blood.  His beard was a dark maroon color from the drying blood.  His skin was definitely whiter than it should be, the parts of it that she could see.  Most of his face was obscured by the oxygen mask that the paramedics had strapped to his face.  She could see that his eyes were closed, but he wasn't dead.  Everyone was too busy working on him, he must be alive.  She had to believe that much.

The paramedics whizzed by her and into the nearest trauma room, and she followed.  The doctors and nurses moved around her in a blur of activity.  They were too busy to notice her, so she just stayed back and out of the way.  She watched his limp, pale hand sitting on the white hospital sheet.  They hooked him up to machines, they cleaned out wounds, and they did an ultrasound to look for internal bleeding.  When one of the machines flat lined the tears started streaming down Sara's face, but she didn't even notice.  She continued to stare at his hand.  The paddles came out and they shocked his heart, making his body tense and arch off the table.  But nothing happened.  Another shock, another moment of tense muscles and he arched off the table.  Small blips reappeared on the screen, and Sara once again began to breathe.  She hadn't realized that she had been holding her breath.  She heard one of the doctors call for a surgical consult.  She cringed inwardly at the thought of him being cut open.  Ten minutes later he was on his way up to have surgery to stop the internal bleeding.  Sara sat in the family waiting room, barely moving an inch the entire time.  When the madness of the emergency room had passed and the doctors realized that she wasn't family they had tried to keep her out, but she had refused.  She would have handcuffed herself to the bed if necessary.  When Sara put her mind to staying put, she was staying put.  

When he came out of surgery he was finally stable.  After a stay in the recovery room he was placed in the intensive care unit.  The nurse there was nice enough to ignore the fact that she was not family and let her stay in the room with him.  He was in a coma; he didn't even know that she was there.

She reached over and took his hand in both of hers.  It was warm to the touch.  She took comfort in the feel, knowing that he was still alive.  She had seen and touched a lot of dead bodies in her life, and this was nothing like that.  He was alive.  She just had to keep telling herself that.  She reached up and brushed a stray tear off her cheek.  He was going to be all right, she knew it.  He just had to be.


	4. Chapter 4

Part Four:  More Memories 

Two days later Sara was still in the hospital with Grissom.  She had briefly gone home to shower and change, and pick up some magazines, but that's all.  She didn't want to leave his side.  Her overzealous attitude towards work was paying off.  Due to her refusal to stay at home and not work for oh, the last three years, she had a lot of vacation time saved up, so she took off a few weeks to stay by his side.  She didn't know if he would wake up, but if he did she was going to be there when he did.

She had taken to reading him forensic magazines during the day.  She heard somewhere that  when a person is in a coma they may still hear what is going on around them.  If that was true, she somehow thought that Grissom would be glad that she was helping him to keep caught up on the latest forensic techniques while he was in the hospital.  If only she could get him on a roller coaster somehow, then he would have to wake up.  She smiled at the odd picture of a hospital bed strapped to a roller coaster car.

When the doctors moved him from the intensive care unit to a regular room she was able to bring in a small radio to play for him, and more books to read to him.  The rest of the night shift visited every once in a while, but they seemed to sense that Sara had it all under control, and that she wanted to be alone with him, and they let her be.

Now it was night, and she was starting to feel drowsy.  The radio was playing softly in the background.

"If I were a painter, I would paint my reverie, if that's the only way for you to be with me.  We'd be there together just like we used to be, underneath the swirling skies for all to see.  And I'm dreaming of a place where I could see your face, and I think my brush would take me there, but only…If I were a painter, and could paint a memory.  I'd climb inside the swirling skies to be with you.  I'd climb inside the skies to be with you…"

She shifted in the chair to rest her head, and closed her eyes.  She could just take a little nap; there was no harm in that.

And her dreams were filled with pictures of Grissom.  A sort of slideshow of all of the memories that she had of him.  She saw him sitting at his desk with a tarantula crawling on his hands.  She saw him standing at the base of a building as dummies flew off the roof.  Then he was in a lab coat with Dr. Robbins working on an autopsy.  Then he was as she first met him, standing at a podium in a lecture hall.  She saw him standing by a body at a crime scene, walking down an alley carrying a scarf.  He was sitting on a bench beside her at an ice rink talking about baseball and beauty.  She saw him sitting behind CSI doing regression formulas on calculations about bugs on a pig.  She saw him holding her back from killing a murder suspect.  Then he was standing under a bridge with her, staring off into the sky.  He was taking his pulse and pacing outside of an apartment building.  He was giving Greg that "are you for real?" look; he was giving her that "did you just say what I think you said?" look.  She saw him taping her hands together with duct tape.  She saw him in a cramped airplane bathroom; "It does have protein in it."  He was signing to the principal of a school, he was arguing with the sheriff; he was standing up to the F.B.I.  He was looking at her over the top of his glasses.  He was standing beside her, patiently waiting for her to find the answer instead of just giving it to her straight away.  He was simply standing in the doorway, watching her work.  Then he was gone.

She woke up and rubbed her eyes.  What a dream.  She looked over at Grissom, who was still not awake.  Sara sighed and stretched her neck.  She hoped he woke up soon.


	5. Chapter 5

Part Five:  A New Friend 

Sara was standing at the hospital room window, arms crossed in front of her chest, watching the sunrise.  The pinks and purples of the morning sun were reflecting in her brown eyes, which were glistening with tears, just short of spilling down her cheeks.  She looked over her shoulder at Grissom, lying motionless on the bed behind her.  God, it was so hard to see him like this.  She thought, as she flopped back down into the chair that she had just about lived the last week of her life in.  She pulled her knees up to her chest and let out one shaky, ragged sigh.  She was so physically and mentally exhausted that she didn't even have the energy to cry properly anymore.  She squinted her eyes shut and buried her face in her knees.

Time passed.  Maybe it was an hour, or four hours, or more.  Being in one room for just about a week straight was very disorienting to her internal clock.  She wasn't sure if she had been asleep in the chair, or just lost in thought, but a noise across the room pulled her back into the present, and she looked up.  Grissom had a roommate.  Somehow she had failed to notice the hospital staff bring another patient into the room.

"Good morning, child," came a deep baritone voice.

"Morning," she replied, unfolding herself from the cramped chair and standing to stretch.  She looked over at Grissom who had not moved or changed at all.

"Is he your husband?"

"No," she said.  "We work together."  Sara looked across the room at the new arrival.  He appeared to be in his seventies, coarse gray hair and wrinkled, kind eyes.  He looked like the perfect old grandpa to be sitting on the front porch in a rocker on a muggy summer evening.

"Oh," he said.  "It is quite dedicated for you to sit here with him.  The nurses tell me that you haven't moved from this room in days."

Sara looked down at her wrinkled clothes.  She knew she must look like hell.  "Yeah, well, I just…"

"Are you ok, child?"

"Me?  I'm fine.  I've just been sleeping in that chair for a week, that's all."

"Are you sure that's all?"

Sara looked confused.  "Why do you ask?"

"Oh, no reason.  By the way, my name is Robert White.  You can call me Bobby."  He extended his hand to Sara.

She smiled at the incongruity of the youthful name for the old man.  "I'm Sara.  Sara Sidle."

He returned her smile.  "What happened to your friend?"

Her smile faltered as she looked back at Grissom on the bed.  "He was in a car accident.  He was driving back from out of town and he fell asleep at the wheel."

"The desert can do that to anyone.  Me?  I've survived a few car accidents in my day.  Of course, when I first started driving cars couldn't go nearly as fast as they do today.  Sometimes it's a wonder people survive to retire."

"I suppose," she said.  "What happened to you?"

Bobby laughed at her directness.  "My, you don't beat around the bush, do you?  Well, I suppose you could say that I am just wearing out.  Ninety-nine years is a long time for my ticker to keep ticking."

"Ninety-nine?  I wouldn't have guessed you were more than seventy-five!"

"Well thank you!  Thank you very much!  But I wouldn't want to be seventy-five again.  I was young and stupid then."

Sara smiled.  Despite her normally reclusive nature, it was nice to have someone to talk to again.  "I know all about being young and stupid."

"Oh, you don't look like the stupid type to me."

"You'd be surprised."

"Really?  Tell me one stupid thing that you have done."

"Well, when I was five I super-glued the finders of my left hand together," Sara mused, smiling at the thought.  Boy did that hurt.  She had been trying to build some experiment; she didn't remember exactly what anymore.

"How about we stick to adult life?" Bobby said.

Sara again looked over at Grissom.  "I asked him out to diner once."

"Now what could be wrong with that?"

"He said no.  He said he didn't know what to do about us.  Ever since then things have been strained between us.  We used to be so close.  We worked together and moved through our days totally in sync.  We flirted…we were close once.  But I ruined that."

"How do you know you ruined it?"  
  


"Because I went too far.  I spoke the unspeakable.  I broke the unspoken rule of keeping our friendship platonic, nothing beyond some loaded flirting."  Her eyes misted over again as she looked as Grissom.  She fought to keep control, to not cry again.  "I just want him back the way that he was.  Even if I can't be with him, I just want him back in my life somehow.  I have spent the last few months missing him when he was right in front of me."

"Have you told him this?" came the soft question from behind her.  Sara had almost forgotten that she had someone else in the room with her.

"No, he doesn't listen.  He just analyses and over thinks everything."

"He might listen now.  It's not like he can get up and walk away."

Sara smiled despite her grief.  Maybe she could talk to him now.  Maybe now was the time to sort out all of the complicated emotions flowing around inside of her?  Maybe this was a turning moment in her life; a second chance to fix things.


	6. Chapter 6

Part Six:  An Old Pain 

Now it was night.  Sara didn't much like the hospital at all, but of all times of day here this was her favorite.  Most of the ward that Grissom was in was silent and calm.  The quiet only broken occasionally by a nurse coming around to check on some of the patients.  Sara sat at the side of Grissom's bed, holding one of his hands in both of hers.  She looked across the room at her new friend Bobby, who was sound asleep and breathing deep, slow breaths.  She had spent most of the day talking to him.  She told him about work, about Grissom, about her childhood, about everything.  It was amazing how she could somehow open up to this man so easily when he was little more than a stranger to her.  Perhaps that was what made it all a little easier.  He wasn't really a part of her life, so she could talk openly to him.  Even if he thought she was totally crazy, it didn't affect her life at all.  But he didn't seem to think that she was crazy at all.  He just patiently listened to her talk, nothing more.  He gave her the strength to do what she was about to do.  She looked down at Grissom, took a deep breath, and began to speak.  Her voice was little more than a whisper, and more than once it shook and almost dissolved completely, but somehow, deep inside, she knew he could hear her.

"Grissom.  I don't know if you can hear me, but there are some things that I need to get off of my chest.  I just…I wish that we had talked sooner.  I know that there is no going back, but I wish we hadn't let this awkward space settle in between us.  We used to be so close.  You used to trust me.  We used to move through life like two halves of the same person.  Like we were meant to be together.  When we met all those years ago I was just a kid, curious about the world, about life, and about you.  We spent hours debating different theories or puzzles, and somehow you always knew what I was going to say before I said it, and you found a way to challenge my thinking.  Back then I thought that was because I was not working hard enough to find the right answer, and that you were bound to think that I was stupid.  As time passed I realized that you didn't know what I was thinking because it was the obvious easy (albeit wrong) answer.  You knew what I was thinking because you had thought the same thing at first; because our minds travel some of the same roads.  The more time we spent together, the closer we became.  It didn't matter if we were in a museum, a science lab, a classroom, or a coffee shop.  It didn't matter if we were deep in conversation or lost in our own thoughts.  We were connected, through some inexplicable bond that neither of us could quite understand.  Sure, it was a little scary, but we stuck to safe ground.  We stayed in contact after you went back to Vegas.  Even the great distance between us couldn't break the bond that we had forged.  It was something more than a friendship; at least it was for me.  It was always so much more for me.  You were a great source of strength and inspiration for me.  You challenged me to learn and to grow like few other people ever did.  You inspired me to grow and learn.  I was always trying to impress you.  If I didn't know something, I would try and fake it to make you think that I was smart.  I don't think that I ever fooled you though.  You would just find a subtle way to tell me what I needed to know without embarrassing me by just calling my bluff.  When you called me to Vegas, your timing couldn't have been better.  I was in a rut at my old job, I didn't feel like I was growing or advancing.  The change of scenery was exactly what I needed.  The first two years that I was here were wonderful.  At first it felt like our old bond was just like it had been when we had first met.  You trusted me to do jobs you couldn't trust anyone else with.  If you couldn't be somewhere yourself, you sent me, knowing that I could do the job.  I can't tell you how good that felt to be personally hand picked by you to come and work here when you needed someone.  It was the clearest indication that you had ever given me that you needed me as much as I needed you.  And for a while that was enough.  We were together at work, and work was my life.  When I got too involved and started to lose myself, you were there to bail me out.  When you were getting too involved, I was there to try to calm you down.  We were a perfect match; at least I thought so.  When we had the accident in the lab it was like my life flashed in front of my eyes.  I saw everything all at once, and it hit me then.  I wanted more from you than the guidance of a mentor.  I needed more.  It was like I suddenly realized that you don't always get a second chance, there really isn't always a tomorrow.  That might sound a little silly coming from someone who sees dead people on a regular basis.  I really should know as well as anyone that shit happens and you need to live for today and all of that.  But it doesn't feel like that.  I guess most of the time I feel like everyone else does, like it can't happen to me.  Like it couldn't happen to you.  But that day…that day everything changed.  I saw my life flash in front of me, and something was missing.  You.  I mean, you weren't really missing, but you weren't really there either.  I wanted you to be with me.  I mean really be with me.  You know?  So I acted on instinct.  I didn't think, I didn't analyze.  I didn't weigh the pros and cons or go through the scientific process.  I just acted.  I asked you to diner.  And you said no.  I don't even think I can describe how much that hurt.  It was like finally hearing out loud that I was not really all that important to you.  I felt like I was one of your experiments.  Something that commanded your attention for a while, until you saw what the result was and then you walked away, leaving me to clean up the pieces.  But you know what, I probably could have lived with that.  I could have lived without being with you like that.  What really hurt was the way that you shut me out after that.  You stopped trusting me, you put everyone else in the world in front of me, you stopped talking to me, and you stopped treating me like a special person.  Hell, sometimes you didn't even treat me like a person.  You completely shut me out.  I felt like I was being punished for doing something horribly wrong.  But you know what?  I don't think I did do anything wrong.  I just wanted to take what we had and make it more.  Is there really any harm in that?  I don't know.  I don't know if after hearing all of this you will forgive me.  I don't know if you are even hearing this.  But I want so much to have you back in my life.  I want that amazing unbreakable bond back.  I miss you Grissom."

And with that, she laid her head down on his hand and cried.  Not for his accident, not for herself, but for the both of them.  For their past, for their future, for every moment that they had ever spent together, and for every moment that they had ever spent apart.  After a short while she fell asleep with her head resting on the bed next to his hand, which was still clasped in both of hers.  She was in too deep of a sleep to feel it, but Grissom gave Sara's hands a slight squeeze, and then went limp again.


	7. Chapter 7

Part Seven:  A Moment of Hope 

In the morning, Sara was in her usual chair next to Grissom's bed when the doctor came in during her morning rounds.  By now Sara was pretty used to ignoring her.  She more or less just glanced at the chart, fiddled with a few monitors, scribbled a note or two, and left the room.  A few times she had given her condolences to Sara, but that was all the interaction that they had.  Sara was pretty sure that the doctor was ignoring her because she didn't know what to make of her.  She wasn't a wife, or lover, or child, or sibling; but she was still there, day in and day out.  And so each day Sara pointedly ignored the doctor as she made her cursory check of Grissom's stats, and ignored Sara right back.  However, today was different.  Today whatever the little monitors were telling her brought a 'hmmm' from the doctor, who walked quickly from the room without even looking at Sara.

"I wonder what that means?" Sara wondered aloud.

"Who knows, those doctor types are always up on something.  Personally, I think life just happens, no matter what they do," replied Bobby.

Sara smiled.  "Well, I can't completely agree with you.  Medicine is a science, and science I believe in.  It's the only thing that can't lie to you."

"Oh, I don't know about that.  I don't think that the heart is capable of lying either."

Sara looked skeptical.  "I would say that the heart lies all the time.  People tell each other that they love each other when they don't just to use the other person for something, other people deny their feelings for someone else, and on and on."

"I don't think that is the heart that is lying there.  I just think many people have become adept at lying over their heart.  If they were really listening, they would know the truth.  The heart doesn't lie."

Sara looked thoughtfully out the window.  "I suppose that's true.  But you can't objectively read someone's heart.  You can only see it through the filter of that person's projection of themselves and through your perceptions.  Science you can keep digging at and find the real answer."

"That is the scientist in you talking.  You don't always have to see something to know it.  Listen to your heart, and it may very well tell you what you want to know.  Deep down, hearts can be very perceptive.  Speaking of listening to your heart, did you talk to him?"

"Yes, last night, for a long time," she replied without looking away from the window.  She unconsciously reached out and took a hold of Grissom's hand.

"You seem to have made up enough to hold hands," Bobby said.

Sara smiled and joked,  "Grissom can be a somewhat private and standoffish person.  I have to take advantage of my opportunity."

Just then the doctor walked back in the room, followed by another older doctor Sara had only seen a few times.  The second doctor picked up Grissom's chart and looked it over.  After playing with the dials on the monitor, he let out the same 'hmmm' as the previous doctor.

"He is improving," said the new doctor.

Sara looked up, startled.  "What did you say?"

The doctor looked over at Sara.  "He is improving.  He actually seems remarkably close to consciousness.  That doesn't mean that he is going to wake up eminently, but it is a good sign.  Perhaps all the talking to him that you do is waking him up."

Sara blushed and looked down at the floor.  She was embarrassed that this man knew that she had been talking to Grissom.  She supposed that lots of people talked to sick relatives and friends here, but her talks were personal and she wished that no one else had been listening in.  But the doctor didn't push it any further.

"I'll be back in to check on him later.  Whatever you are doing, keep doing it.  He seems to be responding to you."  And with that, the doctor turned and continued on his rounds down the hall, with the first doctor close in tow.  Sara was left standing in her wake, with her jaw on the floor.

"I stand corrected," said Bobby.  "I guess science really can read hearts.  Those blind doctors were perceptive enough to see that you are having a positive effect on him."

She looked over at Grissom lying motionless on the bed.  He didn't look any different to her.  Where was the change?  If he was improving, why wasn't he awake?  Isn't that how it was supposed to happen?  Wasn't he just supposed to wake up bright as day and they could leave the hospital and go on with their lives as normal?  Or ride off into the sunset and live happily ever after?  That's how it always happens in the movies and on TV.  But maybe real life doesn't happen quite that simply.  Maybe real life comes not in long bursts of action, but small moments.  Each one adding on to the one before, creating the whole picture.  Sara smiled at the thought.  Breaking down life like that almost reminded her of science.  Taking a whole picture and breaking it down to little microscopic parts.  Pieces were manageable.  Moments in time.  That's all life is.


	8. Chapter 8

Part Eight:  A Moment of Joy 

Sara was sitting beside Bobby's bed.  They were each taking turns tossing playing cards towards the bedpan sitting on the far end of the bed.

"So you really think this is fun?" asked Sara.  She had yet to get a single card into the bedpan.  Bobby on the other hand was having much better luck.  Of course, he had several more decades of practice.

"Sure.  My grandpa used to sit on his front porch in his favorite chair and do this for hours.  I would love to sit with him and talk about life.  Plus, what else can I do when I am stuck here?"

"I could read you another crime novel."

Bobby groaned.  "I don't know how you can read those things.  Don't you deal with enough death?  A young person like you should have more diverse interests.  Take up knitting, or something."

Sara smiled with amusement.  "Knitting?  Are you serious?  I'm not exactly the domestic type."

"Well, alright.  I suppose young people don't see knitting as 'cool.'  How about break dancing?"  
  


Sara burst out laughing.  "Maybe we should stick to board games and cards," she said.

"I suppose that is for the best.  We wouldn't want you breaking something and ending up as a patient here, too," said Bobby, winking.

"So," said Sara, leaning to pick up the cards from the end of the bed and handing half of them to Bobby.  "We are supposed to sit and talk about 'life' while doing this?"

"Yup."

"Ok.  So, Bobby, what is your favorite memory?"

"This one," he replied.

Sara looked at him, her surprise evident on her face.  "Your favorite memory from 99 years of living is sitting in a hospital tossing cards at a bedpan?"

"Right now it is always the best.  My favorite memory is generally the one I am living at the moment.  Think of it like living in the moment, to the extreme.  When you are really living a moment, you can appreciate it so much more than later when you are simply remembering it.  This exact moment can never really be recreated or remembered exactly right, so you need to appreciate it now.  If you look hard enough, there is something wonderful to cherish in every moment, even the difficult ones.  Something good, knowledge, growth, or even a relationship, grows out of every moment.  Most people couldn't stand being stuck in a hospital bed.  But I look for the good in the situation.  It's not everyday that an old fart like me gets to sit and talk with a beautiful young woman such as yourself."

Sara smiled and blushed.  "Well, a few more weeks of this and I might actually get one single card in the bedpan."  She again gathered the cards from the end of the bed so her and Bobby could resume their activity.

"What is your favorite memory?" asked Bobby.

"Oh, I don't know.  I don't think that I have a favorite."

"Of course you do.  You wouldn't have asked me a question that you didn't already have your own answer for."

Sara looked up at Bobby, amazed at what that man could see.  He had only known her for a few days, and already he seemed to know her so well.

"Ok, how about if I say that right now is my favorite memory?"

"That would be cheating.  You would just be copying me.  Try again."

"I don't know.  Every time I solve a case I have a new favorite memory.  The moment that I find the clue that locks up a case, I feel a wonderful high take over my senses.  Those are all favorite memories."

"Too easy.  Sara, one thing you need to learn is that not everything is about work.  Try again."

Sara frowned.  This man was good.  She looked across the room at Grissom, lying still on the bed.  "Can my favorite memory be yet to come?" she asked.  "I think my favorite memory will be when Grissom wakes up again."

Bobby threw his last card and put his hand on Sara's arm.  "And that, my dear, is a wonderful favorite memory."

Sara sighed and looked down at her lap.  Out of the corner of her eye she saw one card left, stuck under her leg.  She pulled it free and looked at it.  The two of hearts.  How ironic, she thought.  'Two hearts' were exactly what had been occupying her mind since the accident.  Her heart, and Grissom's heart.  She glanced up and tossed the card towards the end of the bed.  It landed dead center in the bedpan.  A perfect shot.  Her first win.  Just as she was about to celebrate her victory with Bobby, she heard a soft moan from across the room.  She looked over at Grissom, and held her breath.  Could it be?  Is it possible that she just heard what she thought she heard?  As if in answer, Grissom slowly slid his hand up to his chest, and moaned again.


	9. Chapter 9

**_Part Nine:  Her Favorite Moment_**

Sara stared at Grissom, frozen in shock.  For what seemed like the longest moment of her life, she stood, firmly rooted to the spot.  Time slowed to a crawl around her, everything happening in slow motion.  The buzzing of the fluorescent lights above was the only sound in her ears.  Her heart had leapt into her throat, and she was shaking all from head to toe.   She felt more than a little dizzy.  She wasn't sure if she was going to faint, throw up, or just simply stay stuck in place for all eternity.  Then, thankfully, the "get down to business" side of Sara took over, and she snapped into action.

"Bobby!  Hit the nurse call button!" Sara ordered as she crossed the room with quick, purposeful strides.  She softly laid one of her hands on Grissom's arm and leaned down towards him.

"Grissom?" she asked, her voice a soft whisper.  She slowly stroked his arm and whispered his name over and over, coaxing him into consciousness.  His eyelids fluttered, and his eyes almost opened, but not quite.  It was as though it was taking every ounce of strength just to move at all.  Sara didn't give up.  She couldn't give up.

"Come on Grissom," she softly pleaded.  "You can do it.  Wake up Grissom, please wake up."  She rubbed his arm and prayed.  'Please let this be it.  Please let him come back to me.  I don't know how much longer I can wait.  Please God.'

His eyelids fluttered again, and this time they did open.  He looked completely lost and confused.  Even frightened.  She looked into his eyes and saw…nothing, emptiness.  In a moment of panic, Sara thought that Grissom hadn't really come back to her.  That he was still lost somewhere.  Sara's vision blurred as tears began to mist in her eyes.  She continued to whisper his name and softly rub his arm, trying to pull him back, make him the way that he was.  She squinted her eyes, trying in vain to keep the tears from spilling down her cheeks.

"Grissom," she whispered, her voice becoming shakier as the tears began flowing freely, making moist streaks down her face.  "Grissom, wake up, please."

"Sara?"  Stunned, she wiped the tears from her eyes and looked at Grissom.  She studied his eyes, looking deep into them.  He was back!  Grissom was really back!  She breathed a sigh of relief.  It felt like a great weight had been lifted from her.  If it was physically possible to float up through the ceiling of the hospital room and off into the sunset, she would be well on her way.

"Hi Griss," she said, smiling through her tears.

Grissom reached up and put his hand on hers, which was still resting on his other arm.  Neither of them said another word.  They just looked into each other's eyes.  For a moment in time, neither of them was aware of anything else, except each other.  In one look, one gaze held for but an instant, they both said more than they could with words in the rest of their lives.  One moment was all it took, one moment in time.

But as soon as that moment came, it left.  Two nurses came into the room, followed closely by Sara's least favorite doctor, the one that always ignored her.  She just about shoved Sara out of the way as she forced her way to the monitors by the side of Grissom's bed and hurriedly began fiddling with them.

"Excuse me, I need room to work so I can help your friend," said the doctor in a cold, impersonal tone.  Sara stepped back, stunned.

"Hey!" hollered Bobby from his bed across the room.  "Don't you have any manners?  Can't you let the woman talk to him at all?  She's the one that got him back, not you and all your convoluted medicine."

The doctor completely ignored Bobby and continued fiddling with the monitors and barking orders at the two nurses in the room.  It was a full five minutes before Sara could get anywhere near the bed again.  When the flurry of activity had subsided, and Sara could again see Grissom, his eyes were once again closed.

"What did you do to him?" she fumed, advancing towards the doctor.

"Relax, I know what I am doing.  He is asleep, not back in a coma.  He needs real rest now, so I am going to have to ask you to leave.  You may come back in after he has had a few hours to sleep if you promise not to try and wake him up.  The next few days are critical.  If you want him to recover, you are going to have to cooperate."

Sara fumed inside.  Who did this doctor think she was?  She was talking to Sara like she was five years old.  She was perfectly capable of sitting by Grissom and being quiet, she didn't need to be banned from the room like an unruly child.

"I can stay, I won't wake him, I promise," she said through gritted teeth.

"No," said the doctor, picking up Sara's coat and ushering her towards the door.  "You need a break.  Go home, rest for a while, and then come back.  You will feel so much better."  The mock concern dripping from the doctor's voice only served to infuriate Sara more.  The only thing that saved the doctor from a broken nose was Bobby.

"I'll keep an eye on him for you, Sara," he said softly.

Sara looked over at Bobby and felt her anger lessen.  She knew she could trust him.  And it wasn't like she had a whole lot of choice in the matter.  The doctor was liable to call security on her if she tried to stay.  That was the last thing she needed.  It would just be her luck to get banned from the hospital the moment Grissom finally woke up.  She angrily grabbed her coat from the doctor and sulked out the door.

Once outside she leaned against the side of her Tahoe and looked up to the sky at the fluffy white clouds floating in a sea of blue.  She smiled.  It may have been cut short by the know-it-all doctor, but Sara knew she had just experienced one hell of a favorite moment.  She reached into her pocket and pulled out her cell phone and hit the number four on her speed dial.

"Hey Nick, its Sara.  Grissom's awake."


	10. Chapter 10

Part Ten:  A Moment of Preparation 

Sara stepped out of the steam filled shower and reached to grab her towel off the rack, knocking her hairbrush to the floor in the process.  As she towel dried herself off, she reached down to pick it up and walked over to the mirror.  Reaching out she wiped the steam condensation from the mirror, reveling her reflection staring back at her.  Through the streaks crossing the mirror where her hand had wiped it clean she saw a woman.  Pretty, she supposed, in a girl-next-door sort of way.  Though her hair was rather straight and sometimes lifeless, and she almost never wore makeup.  In fact, the only makeup she even owned she bought five years ago when she went to the wedding of a professor that she had worked for as a teaching assistant back in graduate school.  Investigating crime scenes for a living didn't really necessitate dressing up on a daily basis.  It was hard to worry about your mascara when you were trekking through a garbage dump.

Thinking about work brought her thoughts back to Grissom.  She smiled to herself as she reached for her hair dryer.  Still, she didn't yet know what his being awake would mean to her.  Would this brush with death be the push that they needed to take their relationship to the next level?  Or would he simply thank her for bringing him the latest issue of "Forensic Science Today" and ask her how her cases had been going while he was in the hospital?  Was it going to be business as usual, or a whole new frontier?  Truthfully, she didn't know.  And really, the whole prospect was rather frightening.  Despite the fact that she knew she wanted something more from him than she was getting, thinking about it actually happening was scary.  It would mean so many changes for both of them.  At work, in their personal lives.  Could two totally independent workaholic people really come together as something more than friends?

'I'm getting ahead of myself,' she thought as she began to comb out her hair.  'I don't even know what his condition will be after his stint in the coma.'  Truth be told, Grissom waking up brought more questions than answers.  What kind of injuries did he have?  What kind of physical therapy would he need?  Would he still be able to work?  Even putting aside the physical injuries, what it must feel like to wake up weeks after an accident?  Was being in a coma like sleeping?  Or did he have some memory of being in the hospital?

She broke from her worrying about Grissom to look in the mirror and assess herself.  She sighed and bent down to dig around in the cabinet under her sink.  She emerged shortly with an old curling iron in her hand.  'What the hell,' she thought.  'It's not every day someone wakes up from a coma, maybe I'll curl my hair today.'

As she left the curling iron to heat up, she walked to her bedroom, tossing her towel over the back of a chair on the way.  As she stood in front of her closet, she contemplated the plethora of t-shirt and jeans combos that she owned.  She pulled out one of her favorites, red v-neck t-shirt, and grabbed a pair of jeans and tossed them on the bed.  Over by her dresser she paused to gaze at the orchid that sat atop the dresser.  An old card was still attached to the little plastic prongs stuck in the dirt.  She read the simple words on the card just as she had so many days before, "From Grissom."

Putting on her clothes she glanced at the clock sitting on the bedside table, 3pm.  In a little less than an hour she would meet the rest of nightshift at the hospital, and she would get to see Grissom, awake.  She stood and walked into the bathroom to curl her hair and finish getting ready.  It was time to move forward.

***

Pulling into the parking lot at the hospital thirty minutes later, Sara was just about vibrating with excitement.  As she walked into the familiar corridors she felt the butterflies in her stomach take flight.  She was terrified.  Thanks to Bobby she had gotten good at talking to Grissom when he was unconscious, but what would she do now that he was awake?  Would she freeze?  She hoped not.  She wanted the new Sara to be more confident than that, more honest.

Sara floated down the hall towards Grissom's room, barely noticing the flurry of activity around her.  All the time she had spent in this hospital over the last few weeks had taught her to ignore the constant code blues, code reds, and all the rest of them.  As she rounded the corner to the hall where Grissom was, she was rehearsing what she would say to him when she walked into his room and saw him awake.  But just a few steps down the hall, her heart stopped short.  The flurry of doctors and nurses responding to a code-some-color-or-other that she had been ignoring were running into a room just twenty yards in front of her.  They were all running into Grissom's room.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11:  A Moment of Fear 

Sara stood in the hallway, staring blankly at the doorway to Grissom's room.  The doctors and nurses were all inside, the chaos of whatever was happening in there now safely out of her view.  An outside observer may have thought she was just calmly waiting in the hall to meet a friend, daydreaming, a little bored, but calm.  They couldn't have been further from the truth.  Inside, Sara's mind was busy with a million thoughts.

'No,' she thought.  'It can't be, it's not fair.  He just woke up…' She felt suddenly sick to her stomach, like the emotional roller coaster that she had been living on for the last few weeks had taken a turn that really didn't agree with her.  She didn't want to deal with whatever was going on in that room right now.  She couldn't.  She just didn't have the strength anymore.  Sara turned to walk back down the hall away from Grissom's room and ran right into Warrick.

"Hey Sar, I was just coming to see Griss.  Which room is his?" asked Warrick, gesturing to the hallway in general.

"The one with the code blue," Sara responded, almost stoically.  "The one with all the doctors and nurses running around.  The one where something is very wrong…" Sara's eyes glossed over with tears, her voice cracking with the overwhelming emotion.

Warrick reached out and pulled Sara to him in a strong embrace.  "Its ok Sara," he spoke into her hair as he kissed the top of her head and rocked her back and forth in comfort.  "Grissom is strong, he is going to make it through this."  They stood like that in the hallway for what seemed to Sara to be an eternity, but in reality was no more than a minute or two.  She pulled back from Warrick and looked up at him, her face streaked with tears and mascara.

"I need to walk," she stated simply, and turned to walk down the hallway towards the elevators.  Warrick followed, not wanting to let her out of his site when she was in such a state.  They stood in silence at the elevators, waiting for the shiny sliver doors to open.  Inside the elevator, Sara stared mutely at the lighted numbers, slowly descending to the ground floor, 11, 10, 9, 8…

"Sara?  Are you ok?" asked Warrick, tentatively.  Just then both occupants of the elevator were just about knocked off their feet as the elevator came to a sudden halt somewhere between floor 2 and 3.

"NO!!" screamed Sara, suddenly coming to life again.  "ITS NOT FAIR!!!"  She kicked the shiny sliver doors, which were unyielding to her assault.  They remained closed, holding her apart from the outside world.  She hit the door again, cursing.  Her right hand broke open, her blows now leaving red smears of blood on the silver metal doors.

Warrick reach forward and pulled her away from the door, saving her from further injury.

"Whoa, Sara.  Breaking both hands won't make the elevator move."

She slid down the wall to the floor and pulled her knees to her chest as she dissolved in tears.  "Its…just…not…fair!" she said between sobs.

"I know Sara."  Warrick sat on the floor next to her and put his arm around her shoulders.

"I spent the last…two and a half weeks…in the hospital with him.  I talked to him…I told him everything…I can't lose him…I…need…him."  The sobs were almost making her voice impossible to understand, but Warrick got the general idea.  He was rather shocked to hear Sara talk so openly about her feelings for Grissom.  Sure, he knew they were there, everyone in the lab did.  But it was always something that went more or less unspoken.  Sara and Grissom were both, by nature, such private people.  They just didn't show their lives to people around them.  Grissom more so than Sara, but she wasn't exactly the most open person either.  Seeing her having a breakdown over her own life was a bit overwhelming.  The only real emotion he had ever seen her show was for victims of crimes.

But here she was, sitting on the floor of a stalled elevator, crying her heart out over a man in a hospital room on the twelfth floor.  As her sobs subsided, she sat up straighter, pulling herself from Warrick's sideways embrace.

"I'm sorry," she said, wiping the tears from her cheeks, smearing the mascara even more.  Warrick reached into his pocket and pulled out a Kleenex, which he offered to Sara.  "It figures, the first time in years I wear mascerra I cry and it runs all over."

"Its fine, Sara.  It's all going to be fine."

"I know.  I'm sorry I broke down, I'm fine."

"Sara, you don't always have to be the strong one."

Sara looked at him, mildly surprised.  "The strong one?  No, the strong one would not be having a nervous breakdown on the floor of an elevator.  The strong one would be fighting her way through the doctors to get to his bedside and be with him."

Warrick's cell phone rang, and he reached into his pocket to retrieve it.

"Brown," he answered.  "Hey Catherine, yeah, we know the elevators aren't working, we are stuck in one of them.  Yes, Sara is with me….uh huh…uh huh…we don't know…I'll call you when we know…bye."

Sara looked at Warrick with an expectant look on her face.

"Catherine, Nick, and Greg are downstairs.  Apparently all the elevators are out, they can't get up to his room either."  Her face fell.

"I was hoping they were up there and would know something…I love him you know."

Warrick smiled.  "I know Sara."

Just then there was a buzz on the elevator intercom.

"Hello?  Is anyone there?" came a crackly voice.

Warrick reached over to push the 'talk' button.  "Yeah, there are two of us here, can you get us out?"

"We're working on it, sir.  Are you both alright?"

"Yeah, fine."

"We're trying to restore power to the elevators now, just stay calm and relax.  It shouldn't bee too long."

Sara had a sinking feeling in her stomach that they would not make it out of the elevator in time.

Warrick looked at her, almost reading her thoughts.  "It's ok Sara.  We'll get there in time."

"Yeah, I know," she said.  But inside she thought, 'what if we are already too late?'


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12:  Room 1223 

Meanwhile, upstairs in room 1223…

Bobby watched in wonder as the doctors and nurses buzzed around the room, a flurry of activity.  It wasn't often that he was on the outside looking in when a hospital emergency took place.  At his age, it was usually him on the table, being shocked, being prodded, being medicated.  But this time it was not, it was someone much younger than his 99 years of age.  After a short while he saw the doctors take off down the hall, pushing the gurney that held their patient at an urgent speed.  It was only when the last of the nurses had also left that he spoke.

"Goodness, I don't know if my heart can take such surprises anymore.  That doctor was the picture of health, who knew she would collapse like that?" mused Bobby.

"Was she one of my doctors?" asked Grissom weakly.

"Yes, but don't worry, she wasn't one of the better ones.  She was rather rude much of the time.  Maybe seeing the patient side of the emergency room will soften her up a little bit."  Bobby turned and looked across the room at the man whom he had heard so much about over the course of the last few weeks.  His bed was set at an incline so that he was almost sitting, and he could look around the room that he had occupied for the duration of his coma.

"How long have I been here?" asked Grissom.

"A few weeks.  You were here before me, I just came in last week and met you and your friend, Sara."

"Sara?"

"Yes.  She hasn't left your bedside since the accident."

"Where is she?"

"The doctor that you just saw hauled off on a gurney kicked her out so you could rest.  She would have given the doctor a black eye, or perhaps simply chained herself to the bed, but I promised I would keep an eye on you until you got back.  That woman has quite a bit of spirit."

Grissom smiled.  He was well acquainted with Sara's spirit.  He remembered having to pull her off of a suspect who had murdered his wife after years of abuse.  He also had many memories of her pulling triple and quadruple shifts, sitting in front of a computer monitor for hours on end with a determination unlike any he had encountered in other people.  Yeah, she had spirit all right.  Bobby's voice interrupted Grissom's thoughts.

"She is one special lady."

"Yes, she is," said Grissom.  "She's my best CSI."

"You're lucky she's not here to hear you say that."  

Grissom looked at Bobby, eyebrows raised.  "Meaning?"

Bobby shook his head.  "You really are as clueless as she said.  I wouldn't have believed it."  

Grissom looked confused.  'Sara says I am clueless?' he thought.  'About what?'

"Sara sat here for two weeks, arguing with doctors, and helping the short staffed nurses take care of you.  She talked to you, read to you, and held your hand.  She barely slept for the entire first week.  For God's sake, she lived off hospital food; no healthy human being should have to do that.  But she did, for you.  Do you think she did that because she was being a good CSI?  Or because you are such a great boss?  Not a chance.  And if she heard that the only comment that you could come up with after all that she has done for you was "she's my best CSI," she would be incredibly hurt.  She loves you, you know."

Grissom sat in silence for a moment, contemplating what Bobby had said.  "She doesn't love me, she is infatuated with me.  Why, who knows?  We are coworkers, nothing more.  That is the way it has been, the way it is, and the way it always will be."

Bobby laughed.  "Maybe if you say that enough times you could actually convince yourself."

"I don't need to convince myself of anything, the truth is evident.  Feelings are passing, they change like the wind.  We are two very different people.  I am nearing fifty, she is just past thirty.  She is still so young, she will find someone else.  Me?  I'm on my way out, it doesn't matter…"

"Now hold on one minute.  'Nearly fifty' is not exactly 'on the way out.'  Age is just a number; take that from one who knows.  I'm ninety-nine years old, and if a woman like that would give me a second chance at life and love, I'd take it in a moment.  One moment of happiness would be worth it.  True happiness, true love, they work like magic.  They melt away years.  Make everyone equal."  Bobby looked over at Grissom, who was listening silently to his monologue.  It looked like he had tears in his eyes.

"Do you really believe that?" he asked.

"I KNOW that.  Happiness and love cure sickness, ease pain, make you feel young and alive again…a miracle," said Bobby.  Then he added, "You should tell her you love her, she deserves to know."

Grissom nodded.  He knew.  Sara deserved to know everything.

And down in the elevator shaft….

Sara was still sitting on the floor of the elevator, her head resting on Warrick's shoulder.  Both had been silent for a long while now.  Sara was tired of talking; Warrick no longer knew what to say.  There really was nothing that he could say to help her.  It was not his words that she needed to hear.

A loud thump on the roof of the elevator startled them both out of their trance.  The trap door on the top of the elevator cab opened, revealing a man in blue scrubs and a white lab coat.

"Good afternoon," he said, smiling into the elevator.  "My name is Dr. Robinson, and today I am also an elevator technician."  Sara and Warrick exchanged a worried look.  "Don't worry, you two are only a few feet below the third floor, if you can get to the roof of the cab, you can climb out quite easily."

Sara jumped to her feet.  "Give me a boost, Warrick?"

Warrick laced his fingers together to boost Sara to the top of the cab.  Once she was safely up, he reached up and pulled himself through the trapdoor and onto the top of the elevator, and he followed Sara out the doors and into the hallway.  He looked at Sara, unsure what to do.

"Go down and find the others, let them know we are ok, I'm going back up there, I have to talk to him."  Warrick nodded, and gave Sara a quick hug before she ran to the stairs and started her long climb up to room 1223.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13:  The Moment of Truth 

Sara ran up nine flights of stairs as if she had wings on her shoes.  Once up on the twelfth floor, she headed straight for Grissom's room without hesitation.  She was no longer afraid of what she would find there.  If he was back in the coma, she would wait for him.  She did it once, she could do it again.  If he was hurt worse than they thought, if he needed constant care for the rest of his life, she could do that too.  None of that mattered to her.  She just needed to see him, to be with him.  Everything else was just logistics.  Their jobs, their ages, their lack of social skills, none of it mattered in the least.  And come hell or high water, she was going to make sure that he heard that.

She walked into the room to the surprise of her life.  Not only was Grissom awake, he was sitting up, and throwing playing cards at a bedpan.  Her eyes traveled to the other bed in the room.  Bobby was sitting up in his bed, also tossing playing cards at his bedpan.  A kind nurse was sitting between the two and retrieving cards for them each time they ran out.

"Sara," said Grissom, smiling.  "I was wondering when you were going to come back."

"I, uh, I thought…I saw doctors running in here earlier…I thought you…"

"Remember that snot of a doctor?  The ice princess?" asked Bobby.  Sara nodded.  "She passed out when she was in here, the doctors were treating her, not us."  Sara was stunned.  She had automatically assumed the worst, and had put herself through hell in the elevator for a few hours as a result.

"Bobby here is a very good listener Sara.  He used to sit with his grandfather like this and toss cards and talk about life," said Grissom.  He looked over at Bobby, nodding.

"I think that's my exit cue," said Bobby.  "Barb, could you help me into a chair and take me for a little walk?"  The nurse smiled and nodded, helping Bobby from the bed and wheeling him off down the hall.  On his way past Sara, he looked at her and winked.

Once they were alone, Grissom motioned to Sara to sit on the edge of the bed next to him, and she obliged.  She sat on the bed and looked at Grissom, his bright blue eyes sparkling back at her.  She had never seen him look as alive as he did in that moment.  Maybe it was the contrast of seeing him unconscious for a few weeks, maybe it was her wishful thinking, maybe it was the pain medication that he was on.  It could have been any of those things.  But maybe…just maybe…it was something more.

"Sara, I have a confession to make.  I didn't fall asleep at the wheel the other day."

Sara looked confused.  "Was it a crime?  Did someone attack you or something?  I don't even know who looked at the accident scene, I was here…I never thought…what if…"

"Sara, calm down," Grissom said, laying his hand on her arm.  She quit talking and looked back at him.  "I didn't fall asleep, then, but I guess you could say that I have been asleep for most of my life.  I haven't been living it the way that life is meant to be lived.  I've just been existing.  I suppose that is a crime, but I am the guilty one."  He paused to gaze at Sara, her confused expression bringing a smile to his face.  She probably thought he had a permanent head injury.  "What I am trying to say is that I haven't been me for a long time.  I've been asleep.  I've been dreaming.  Every moment of every day I am dreaming.  I dream about what it would be like to lie with you on the couch and watch a movie.  I dream about what it would be like to fall asleep with you in my arms.  I dream about what it would be like to share breakfast with you every day, and diner every night.  I dream about what it would be like to kiss you.  I dream about your eyes, your hair, and your smile.  I hear you in every song on the radio, see you in every sunrise…you are everywhere to me, but only in my mind.  Now I know that's not enough.  I want you in my life.  I've spent too much time dreaming, it's time that I started living."  He looked down and took Sara's hands in his own, caressing her palms with his thumbs.  Looking up to meet Sara's gaze, he saw so many things in her deep brown eyes.  He saw confusion, and wonder, and amazement, and hope, and love.  Yes, he definitely saw love there.

"I…Grissom…I don't know…I don't know what to say," stammered Sara, her thoughts going a million miles a minute.  What had happened to Grissom after his accident?  Grissom was never this open, this willing to talk.  She was so stunned she couldn't even form a coherent enough sentence to respond.

"Say yes.  Say that you want to give it a chance.  Say you'll still have dinner with me.  And maybe breakfast," said Grissom, blushing.

"Don't you think you should concentrate on getting better first?" asked Sara, amused by his boldness.

"Well, I suppose you're right, maybe breakfast in a few weeks?" he asked hopefully.

"I will only allow that if you take her somewhere for real food, none of this hospital food," interrupted a voice from the hall.

"Hi Bobby," said Grissom, smiling.  Sara looked from Bobby to Grissom and back again.  It was his doing, she knew it.  Bobby had somehow cracked Grissom's shell and set the real Grissom free.  That man must be her guardian angel, there was no other explanation for it.

"So am I invited to the wedding?" teased Bobby when he was again set up in his bed.

"I think that is a little way's away," said Sara, standing and walking to Bobby's bedside.  She leaned down to give him a hug.  "Thanks," she whispered in his ear.

"Anything for you Sara," he said, returning her embrace.  "But you better hurry up with that wedding, I'm not a young man."

Sara smiled down at the man that had changed her and Grissom's lives forever.  "I don't buy that for a minute.  You are much younger than either of us."  

"Well, you certainly are younger than I feel," said Grissom, showing for the first time that day how much pain he was still in from the accident.

Sara smiled and walked back to his side, taking his hand in hers as she pushed the button on the side of the bed to lower him back so he could sleep comfortably.  "Maybe its time for you to get some rest," she said softly.  She reached with her other hand and smoothed his hair.  "Have sweet dreams, Grissom, and this time, when you wake up, I'll still be right here, by your side."  She leaned down and gave him a soft kiss on his forehead.  "Goodnight."

Grissom fell into a deep and well deserved sleep.  Even in sleep he held fast to Sara's hand, as if he was afraid that he would wake up and find her gone.  What did he dream?  He dreamed of a million moments that he and Sara would share together.  Breakfasts and dinners, sunrises and sunsets, kisses, hugs, and more.  An endless stream of moments flowing into the future.  Into their future, together.


End file.
